It Was The End
by Irish Thorn
Summary: Hermione decided that she didn't want Ron. But then who does she want?  One-shot. Sexual content.


**A/N: This is my first fan fic so be gentle.**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any related characters, places, events, or things.**

They walked hand in hand down the street to Hermione's home. She lived in a small cottage just on the outskirts of town. They had been dating since the end of the wizarding war three years ago but they weren't any closer now than they were then. Once they got to her front door, she turned to him with a small smile on her lips.

"Good night, Mione," Ron called her the one nickname that she kept asking everyone to stop calling her. He leaned down and gave her a sweet kiss on the lips, causing her to smile up at him. He turned to walk away, leaving her standing there staring after him.

"Good night, Ron," she whispered and the wind carried away the softly spoken words. She turned around and muttered a quick spell to unlock her front door. She slipped in and closed the door, locking it quickly. She leaned back against the door, thinking about Ron. How was she going to tell him that she didn't like him as anything more than a friend? She sighed as she slid down the door to sit on the floor in the entry way.

After a few minutes of contemplating what to do, she finally stood and walked into her living room. She slipped off the high heels she was wearing and dropped them onto an arm chair as she walked past. She swiftly grabbed a handful of floo powder and stepped into the fireplace, clearly shouting her destination. She stumbled out of the fireplace to see a hand held out to her. She grabbed it and allowed its owner to help her out of the hearth. She brushed off the short dress she was still wearing from her date with Ron and turned to the man who was closely watching her.

"How was your date?" The man's breath-taking gray eyes were completely unreadable, she had no way of gauging his question.

"Well enough, I suppose." She seemed to think for a minute before continuing, "He wants to take things to the next level." At this the man raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow.

"And what do you want?" This was a loaded question, they both knew it.

She answered as honestly as she could, "I'm not sure what I want tomorrow, or for the rest of my life, but it's not him." A small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. "But for now, I want you."

He smirked at this, taking her hand and leading her out of the parlor they were in, up an enormous flight of stairs and down a long hallway. They stopped at the last door on the right and he pushed the door open. A very large bedroom done completely in dark green and silver greeted them. This room never ceased to make her smile whenever she saw it. It reminded her of her own bedroom at home, done up in maroon and gold. Some things never changed.

After quietly closing the door, he continued leading her by the hand over to the large bed dominating the room. A twinge of nervousness entered her belly as the man turned back to her. He looked at her for a moment as if to ask if it was alright. Whatever he saw convinced him to proceed with what they both wanted. Both needed. He reached down and pulled the dress up over her head in one fluid motion. She was now standing in his bedroom in a black and red corset and matching thong. His breath caught in his throat.

"Did you wear this for him?" His voice seemed a little strained.

Fearing him briefly, she could only answer honestly. "No. I planned to come here from the beginning."

He smirked at her candor and pushed her back onto the bed. He leaned down, still fully clothed, and kissed her; sweetly at first and then rising in passion. She moaned softly when he laid down his full weight on her. He took full advantage of her parted lips and slipped his tongue into her mouth, deepening the kiss further.

He quickly grew hard and she could feel his arousal against her thigh. This caused her to moan softly again, anticipating what they both knew was going to come. Without breaking the kiss, he undid his pants, sliding them down his body and wriggling free of them. He then proceeded to unbutton the dark gray shirt he was wearing that brought out his eyes so nicely, or so she had told him once before. Their lips never broke apart, never ending the contact they had at their mouths.

He began untying the ribbon holding the corset sides together, pulling it off and throwing it somewhere on the other side of the room. He pulled his tongue out of her mouth and his lips from hers, tracing them down her neck towards her breasts. Once there, he latched onto one of her nipples and sucked hard, biting roughly. This action caused her to emit a loud moan and thread her fingers through his silvery blond hair. He bit down harder and she sharply inhaled. Hearing this, he finally kicked off his boxers, ripped down her panties and was inside her instantly.

He groaned, burying his head in her neck, deeply breathing in her scent. He started to move in and out of her swiftly, holding her down by her curly hair. She gasped with the pleasure-pain that rippled through her body as he continued pumping in and out of her. A light sheen of sweat gathered over his body, but he didn't slow down in the least.

She was getting close, he could tell because she was quivering around him. With one last thrust she let go and with a gasp, all of her muscles tightened around him. He groaned, knowing he couldn't hold back, he released inside of her.

He pulled off of her, rolling onto his back to lay beside her. They laid there quietly afterwards. Neither talking or moving. His breathing slowed and evened out, so she decided it was time to go. This was to be their last time. She would never forget about him, she loved him. Truly and deeply. She quietly got dressed. Just as she was slipping out of his room for the last time, she looked back at him lying there, sprawled out on the bed.

She smiled through the tears that had been forming while she dressed. "I love you, my Dragon," she whispered and closed the door behind her. She never knew that he had been awake that whole time; watching her, knowing it was the last time they would be together. He bit back a smile when she used her special name for him that only she called him, not wanting her to know he was awake. No one else would ever be allowed to call him that, he vowed. He heard the steps creak slightly as she padded lightly back to the parlor to floo home.

"I love you, my angel." And she would always be that to him, because she saved him when everyone else had given up on him, thinking he could never change. But in the end he did. He had learned to love someone even though he knew he never deserved her. With that last bone-chilling thought, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

**A/N: Please review and let me know what you think.**


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